VERY IMPORTANT: happy belated birthday to Amber Harrins! You're always leaving sweet little reviews that make my day, thank you for that. I wish you all the best and hope you're living your best life.

Chapter Fourteen: Of Motorbikes and Licenses

Christmas morning in the Evans household was peaceful. Lily's parents made no mention of her disastrous dinner just two days prior; one look at her face and they could immediately tell that she was still upset over it.

Her parents didn't blame James, thankfully. While her father still disapproved of how he had acted, she'd managed to convince them that he was only standing up for himself and his people, and that he had apologised thoroughly after. Petunia dropped in for a few minutes to wish them a 'Happy Christmas', but when she saw Lily her face instantly became grim and she made an excuse about having to go to work.

Nobody goes to work on Christmas, was what her mother should have said, but she pursed her lips and nodded tightly. What Lily abstained from blurting out loud, though, was that Petunia didn't even work anymore. There was no need to, after all, since her husband was the junior director of her previous company.

They had their usual dinner with her grandparents and Vernon's family, who pointedly ignored her, and she them (one of the few highlights of the evening), and by the time she returned home she couldn't help but wish that the day after Christmas would come quicker. She'd never been to James's house, after all. Once she was free of her relatives, she retreated into her room and stared at the box that was set on her desk: James's present.

The feeling of wanting to open it had been eating away at her for several days now. She'd put it off, largely because she didn't trust James enough to give her something appropriate. She wasn't being unreasonable, either; James had given her several gifts for Christmas, and none of them had been worth writing home about. Fourth year – he'd given her a belching toad, which she had promptly released back to the wild. In her fifth year, she'd received a beautiful wooden horse carving – some of the best craftsmanship she had seen – which then turned back into a sock once the Transfiguration spell had worn off. And finally, in her sixth year, he'd at last given her something relatively normal and sweet: The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

So what was he going to give her now? Giving the box one last suspicious glance, she unwrapped it with her wand.

Inside was another box. Surprise, surprise.

And so she opened it. Staring up proudly at her, its body casting a warm glow upon the velvet that encased it, was a pocket watch.

But it wasn't like any other watch she had ever seen. It was made of gold and was cool to the touch. Instead of numbers, runes circled the face, and it had four needles, each one ticking separately in rhythm. Its chain was long and hard, but when she cascaded it through her fingers it made no noise.

There was a short note in the box written in James's hand. Setting the watch carefully back in place, she read over it.

Lily,

This is a magical watch. It's tradition for wizards and witches to receive watches on their 17th, when they come of age, but since I already got you a present for that I thought it would be nice to give you this before you turned 18.

I'm not exactly sure how these things work. It tells time by supposedly using Divination through the runes, but I'm no expert. Happy Christmas.

James.

She spent the next few minutes trying to figure out how the watch worked. She'd never been good at Divination; indeed, her predictions usually ended in her grisly death, though she wasn't sure how that would help her with telling time. The runes were barely visible in the dark, even with the watch's slight glow. Resolving to ask James the next day, she put the watch back into the box.

And so December the 25th ended. James came to escort her first thing the next morning; she'd woken up an hour earlier than usual and had already packed her trunk and school items. They said goodbye to her parents, wished them a 'Happy New Year' in advance, and Apparated out of Cokeworth.

The usual sensation of being squeezed into a very long, very small tunnel nearly made her vomit. Her neighbourhood had been replaced by empty grounds, caked with snow, that stretched for miles and miles. Off to her side stood a large village, its charming houses blinking with bright, cheerful lights. She squinted at it; Marlene and Sirius had mentioned that James's house was quite big, though there were no such buildings that stood out to her, other than a church.

"That's Falmouth," said James, nodding at the village. "Nice place, but all they've really got going for themselves is the Quidditch team, and it's going downhill at the moment. There's also a junior's Quidditch Club, that's where I learned to play."

"Where's your house?" asked Lily.

"A bit further away from the town," answered James. "There're wards on it, and on the village as well, so that's why we can't Apparate directly into the property."

They set off East, where a lake lay frozen before a ring of mountains. She took a good look at the village as they passed through; it was bright and full of life, and she could hear Christmas carols from the church. There was a large statue of what appeared to be a portly man in a long overcoat, but as she passed it, the figure shimmered and was replaced suddenly by a tall, well-built Quidditch player with his head held high, a broomstick in his hand.

"Godfrey Stinger, founder of the Falmouth Falcons," commented James, smirking at the statue. "Want to go over? People say if you rub his toes, he'll bless you with Quidditch goodness."

"I think I'll pass, thanks," said Lily.

James nodded approvingly. "Good choice. Last time I did that, a Bludger knocked me out."

He told her some more about the village after that. Falmouth, like many other magical settlements, had plenty of Muggle families living in it. The town hall was the oldest building, dating around the 16th century, which made it relatively recent in terms of magical villages. Potter Manor was even older than that, James told her: it was already old when Falmouth was still a collection of mud huts.

That new bit of information made her excited and nervous. A family as old as any other, with enough gold to make a dragon jealous… she was afraid James's parents wouldn't take to her being a Muggleborn well.

They passed through a snow-covered glade a little while later. Pine trees and holly bushes surrounded them, blocking the village from their sight. Somewhere along the way she and James had begun following a small, faded path, though it was now much bigger and rockier.

"We're close," said James brightly. "Look for the gates."

Lily didn't ask him what he meant by that, for a thick set of iron gates appeared a moment later; they'd finally entered the house's wards. She could feel the change, too: the atmosphere was different, and she felt grounded, more solid. It was like entering a large bubble.

The gates swung open as James tapped it with his wand. Directly in front of her, overlooking a vast, neat garden blanketed with snow, stood a towering manor house. Its red-brick walls sprang from the dirt as though the very soil insulted them. The windows were large and plenty, decorating all three stories of the manor in such a way it looked almost cathedral-like.

Realising she wasn't following him, James turned around to where she had stopped in the middle of the pathway. He smiled sheepishly, almost as though he was apologising for the drastic change in scenery. He lifted his shoulders in an awkward half-shrug, his hand trailing to his hair.

"It's a bit much," admitted James, apparently oblivious that Lily was fawning over the architecture. "Come on, Sirius and the others are waiting, and my parents are probably dying to meet you."

Then he pulled her gently by the hand, past the bushes of rosemary and thyme, through the cold snow that blocked the stone path, into the doors of Potter Manor.

As soon as she entered the first-floor hallway, she was immediately engulfed in a bear hug that knocked the wind out of her. She puffed her cheeks and eased into the arms, patting his back awkwardly. Sirius let go and beamed at her, then his face set into a serious expression.

"Where's my present?" he demanded.

Lily laughed. She'd missed hearing Sirius's voice. "Good to see you too, Padfoot."

A blonde girl pushed Sirius roughly out of the way, sized her up, and then smirked. Lily instantly spread her arms, and Marlene pulled her into another hug.

Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that Remus had entered the hallway with an elderly couple; they had wrinkles and slightly greying hair and all the other things that came with being old, but there was an aura of cheerfulness about them.

After quickly embracing Remus, she turned to James's parents. They were ancient, no doubt about it; they could have passed for her grandparents. Fleamont looked very like James, with square spectacles and a thick, bushy moustache. Euphemia was about as tall as Lily, and still looked very pretty even in her old age; she had sleek black hair, streaked with white lines, and had a very prim, proper look about herself. If Lily had to take a guess, she would say that they were in their early to mid-sixties, though it was hard to tell with wizards and witches.

She extended a hand, smiling nervously. To her surprise, Fleamont and Euphemia took one look at her, smiled widely, and then pulled her into a tight hug.

"Mum, Dad," said James exasperatedly, "you're scaring her."

"Nonsense," said Fleamont gruffly, but he let go. They both beamed.

"We just want to say, Lily Evans, that we're both huge fans," said Euphemia brightly. "I feel like James's told us all about you, though I do wish he would put more in his letters."

"I write enough," muttered James, turning bright pink as his mother spoke.

Euphemia wagged a finger at him threateningly, but her eyes were mischievous. "Agree to disagree. Lily, dear, I do apologise, but Fleamont and I have promised the McKinnons – Marlene's parents, I mean – that we would help them with a bit of Muggle shopping. It may take a while, since I'm hopeless with all things Muggle –" she ignored Fleamont's snort "– but we'll be back for dinner. We have the House Elves taking care of the food, so that ought to be something to look forward to, I'm sure."

Lily had only half-listened to what she said, for apparently Sirius found it rather amusing to play with her hair. It was only when he tugged it quite sharply that she elbowed him, shot him a seething look, and then turned to Mrs Potter to say, "Oh, um – sure."

Euphemia smiled warmly at her. "We're going to go get ready, so if you need us, ask for Sammy. Sirius, love, do try not to destroy the house while we're away. That goes for you as well, James."

Her room was on the topmost floor, right next to Remus's room and across from James's. She shooed the boys out of the door and had Marlene help her unpack. However, she had barely finished when Sirius peeked his head in and grinned at her.

"Yes, Sirius, I have your Christmas present here," said Lily exasperatedly, "Be a dear and wait for a moment, will you?"

"While I'm dying to know what you're going to give me, that wasn't what I wanted to talk about," said Sirius. "You need to meet Sammy and the others first, since you'll be staying a few days. He needs to recognize your voice, otherwise he won't answer you."

"Who's Sammy?" asked Lily.

"One of the house-elves," answered Marlene, still rifling through her trunk. "Merlin, why do you have so many quills?"

"One of the house-elves?" repeated Lily incredulously. "I thought wizarding families usually only had one."

"They have one family of house-elves," corrected Sirius. "James and I'll take you down once you're ready. Fair warning, Sammy's a bit… enthusiastic."

Sammy, it transpired, was a very old, very small, and very enthusiastic elf. She and James and Sirius sidled into the kitchens five minutes after she'd finished packing, where they found all three elves levitating pots and pans and bits of food. The place looked like a hurricane had run through it, but the food itself smelled delicious.

"Hullo, Sammy!" said James brightly, and the three house-elves jumped at his voice before they saw who it was, and then they bowed deeply.

"Masters Potter and Black!" cried the house-elf in front, apparently Sammy. He was stooping so low that his droopy ears were touching the floor. "We is missing you, sirs! We is not seeing you in the kitchens ever, sirs! Mistress Potter is so very sad, yes, that her sons no longer wish to cook with her –"

"Well, if she asked, I'd gladly help her!" said Sirius indignantly.

"Mistress Potter merely says so to Sammy, sirs, Sammy knows not if she says to you –"

James cleared his throat.

"I want you to meet someone, Sammy," he said, steering Lily to the front so that the elf could see her properly. "You remember Lily Evans?"

"Dudu remembers, sir," piped up one of the other house-elves immediately. "Master has told us, oh yes, how he fancies her most so –"

"Yes, thank you, Dudu," said James quickly, his face a faint shade of pink. "Well, this is her, and she's going to be staying here a while, right? So I want you to treat her like any other person in the house."

"Of course!" cried Sammy. He straightened up and looked up at her curiously, his big eyes sweeping up and down. The elf was so small he barely reached her waist, and she had a sudden ridiculous thought of Mr and Mrs Potter reading Sammy bedtime stories.

"Hi," said Lily. "Nice to meet you all, I'm Lily."

"We knows, Miss!" said Dudu merrily. "We is the three house-elves of Potter Manor!"

He stuck out his hand. Lily, surprised but delighted, shook it eagerly. Sammy then introduced the other House Elves: there was Dudu, who said without any qualms whatsoever that she was prettier than James had described, and then there was Doppio, who wore an oversized, slightly yellow bed sheet.

"Very nice to meet you, Miss!" squeaked Doppio, grasping her hand.

"Very nice to meet you too, Doppio," said Lily. She internally marvelled at how well-mannered the elves were; most house-elves she'd met were timid and afraid of wizards and witches.

"Right," said James. "Well, if you need anything, Lils, you can call any one of them and they'll help you."

"Right," said Lily, nodding. The elves bowed once more, and then returned to their cooking.

She voiced her earlier thoughts to James and Sirius as they headed back. It was unusual, after all, for house-elves to be so chirpy. She was ecstatic that they were, though; she loved house-elves, but sometimes it was hard to hold a conversation with them.

"Oh, yeah," said James, nodding. "Mum and Dad encourage them to interact with the guests as often as possible. They've been here since before I was born, so they knew right away what to do with me as a 'forever guest'. Sammy's the most vocal of the lot, so if Mum and Dad want something important done, it's usually him they call. I used to order him around all the time as a kid, asking for food or help with my broom."

"Elves are neat," decided Lily. "Not sure what to think about the whole ordering them around, though."

"Most wizarding families treat them as slaves," said Sirius bracingly. "Here, at the Potters' – well, obviously, they'll punish themselves if they fail at something, but it very rarely happens. Mr and Mrs Potter forbid any form of punishment, see, but you can't really stop them if it's their direct nature. It's not all bad, you couldn't ask for a better home for an elf."

"You make it sound like you've seen worse homes for elves," said Lily, raising her eyebrows.

Sirius snorted. "I used to live in one – and the elves turned out to be barking mad, too. They'd go around sneaking in your room, spying on you with their nasty little eyes. The three here, at the Potters' – they're different from other elves. A good different."

The day passed quickly. She gave her friends their presents (she was particularly proud of Sirius's gift: a black leather jacket) and when Mr and Mrs Potter returned that evening, dinner was far more enjoyable than the fiasco she and James had endured just a few days ago. She reluctantly accepted Marlene's gift of two whole bottles of firewhisky, and by the time Mr and Mrs Potter had turned in for bed she and the rest of her friends had already finished her first bottle.

On Monday evening she lay on a couch near the fire in the library, having spent most of the day lazing around with Remus. She was utterly perplexed at the sheer amount of old books that the library held; it was of course, not quite as large as Hogwarts's collection, and there were several volumes that looked as though they hadn't seen the light of day since the 17th century, but it was still impressive.

"Liiilyyy," sang a voice. "It's time to join the world of the living."

The heat of the fire was so comfortable, and The Tales of Warlock Warazov was so immersive, that she didn't even notice a tall, messy-haired boy sneak into the room. The book suddenly snapped shut in her hands before she could see what page she was on, and then it was lifted into the air.

Lily scowled. "You prat, I didn't even get a chance to mark my page! Give it back –"

"You've been reading for much too long," said James, still in that annoying tone of his. "It's not normal, Lils, to spend the whole day in the library alone, especially when you could've been up and out –"

"I wasn't alone, Remus was here!"

James looked around the messy couches, his face a mask of surprise. Lily's book strayed further and further up from her.

"What, like two hours ago? Because he's been with me and Marlene, watching Sirius crash his motorbike –"

Momentarily stunned, she ceased her attempts at grasping her book. "His what?"

"His motorbike," said James absently. "You know, the one that arrived this morning? But – wait, you were in the library, of course you wouldn't know."

"Funny," seethed Lily. "Just give me the bloody book –"

And then she pushed James's head out of the way as she finally grabbed her book from the air above him; he gave a yelp of surprise and they both toppled to the ground.

James laughed. Rolling her eyes, she untangled herself from his limbs and smoothed down her jumper, carefully placing her book away from his reach.

"Now what was that about Sirius's motorbike?"

He pulled himself into a sitting position and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Like I said, it only arrived this morning, so he's still getting used to it. It's huge, though – he can barely move it when it's not turned on." And then, perhaps because he thought it irrelevant, he added, "It can also fly."

"What?"

"Fly, love," said James in an annoyingly mature voice, "You know, that thing that birds do when they're tired of walking –"

"Oh shut up, you," said Lily, but she felt her mouth twitch. "Why can it fly?"

James stroked his chin, appearing to deliberate her question. "Well, I'd imagine he enchanted it, because Muggle bikes can't fly, can they?"

"James."

"All right, all right," he said, seeing the dangerous glint in her eyes. "I don't know. To look cool, I guess."

Lily snorted. "Sounds like something Sirius would do. Is it safe?"

James shrugged. "Probably not, but since when has he cared?"

"Figures," sighed Lily. "Just make sure he doesn't die while trying to steer it."

He smiled at her: that small, lopsided smirk that Lily still found adorable. "Sounds like you're worrying about him."

"Oh, but I am, and I do," said Lily teasingly. "He's my self-proclaimed best mate, remember?"

"Emphasis on self-proclaimed." He leaned his head against the foot of the sofa and stretched his legs. "And while we're on the topic of Sirius, I'm going out with him tomorrow."

"Ditching me, are you?" said Lily. "Can't say I'm disappointed…"

"Har-har," said James in a bored voice. "As I was saying, I'm going out with him tomorrow."

"Fine," said Lily. "Where?"

He shrugged again. "Dunno. Bristol, maybe? It's up to him."

She frowned. "Bristol? A bit far for a recreational trip, don't you think?"

He ran a hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was nervous. "See, the thing is… I don't think we're going out for the sake of… well, going out."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been talking about moving out for ages," said James. "He hasn't ever said it, but he feels like he's taking advantage of my parents. He wants to get a place of his own, now that he's got the money for it."

That was news to her. Sirius never looked as though he regretted staying at the Potters', and she could say with a certain confidence that he enjoyed his time here, seeing as he was unbearably chirpy whenever she hung out with him.

"Do you want him to move out?" asked Lily.

"Of course not," said James immediately. "No one feels that way – that he's leeching off. My parents want him to wait until after graduating, at least. I think he's going to be looking at all the different places that are available tomorrow."

"So you're going flat-hunting," she summed up. "Well, as long as you're with him, I'm not going to worry too much."

According to her brand new pocket-watch (which made James's face light up every time she took it out), it was already well past five o'clock. Lily stood up and held a hand out to him.

"Now let's get out of here. I want to see just how fast that thing can go."

James grasped her fingers, paused for a moment, and then pulled her down suddenly. In an instant, his lips were on hers, his hands trailing up her back and neck; in spite of herself, Lily sighed inwardly and sank into the kiss, mentally scolding herself for allowing James to have such a horrible influence on her.

"I thought we were going out to see Sirius's motorbike," she murmured, as they both paused and he gazed at her.

"Well, if you want to go out so badly…" his face inched closer, and then his lips brushed against hers. She automatically parted her mouth, expecting him to continue, but then he smirked and pulled away.

"Let's go, then. And change into something warmer, it's freezing out there."

Lily scowled. "You're a git."

The next few days of winter break passed by quickly, and by the time the new year had settled in, James was already starting to get bored of his home. Sure, most of his friends were there, and his parents as well, but he missed Hogwarts.

One thing he wouldn't miss, though, was Sirius's flying motorbike. Sirius had talked him into riding with him rather convincingly, and James, who was curious about how motorbikes worked, ended up having to sweet-talk a bunch of overweight cops. The disastrous afternoon, which they'd originally intended on spending by going flat-hunting, turned out with both of them having to hide out until the evening. While he wasn't sure if they were actual Death Eaters, he wouldn't risk either one of their necks to find out.

On the last day of the break, James and his friends said goodbye to his parents near the iron gates that warded the manor. The train was to leave at 11 o'clock, as always, and according to Lily's watch it was a quarter till then – but he was getting rather sick of conducting Prefect meetings. They would Apparate to Hogsmeade directly, which was quicker and safer; there was next to no chance of Death Eaters catching them, unless Hogsmeade had been taken over in the past couple of days without anyone noticing.

He and Sirius waited for Remus to finish hugging his mother before they took their turn, but when she reached out to kiss James, she doubled over in a violent fit of coughing. Sparks flew out of her mouth; she covered it quickly, her eyes wide.

"Mum?" said James alarmedly; Remus looked at her in concern, perhaps wondering what he had done to her.

"Mrs Potter?" asked Sirius. His mum swayed, her pointed witch's hat tipped clumsily to the side and both James and Sirius gripped her elbows before she could fall.

"I'm fine, dear," said his mum feebly. "It's just the old age… you know how it is…"

"But –"

"Mrs Potter," interjected Lily behind him. "Sparks are usually one of the three signs of Dragon Pox. I'm an apprentice Healer, I could check you and prescribe something –?"

"Don't worry about us," said his father, smiling at them. "We'll be OK, we've got each other, haven't we?"

His mother reached a hand out to squeeze his father's. "I've been feeling tired for a few days. We're going out later to St Mungo's, I'll be fine."

Looking unconvinced, Lily nodded hesitantly. James ran a hand through his hair. "If you say so…"

"Don't worry about us," repeated his father. "Just focus on school, stay out of trouble…"

"I'm Head Boy, I know a thing or two about trouble," said James cheekily, "Not so much about staying out of it, though."

Both his parents laughed and pulled them into a hug. He tried his best not to strain his mum, but apparently he'd forgotten just how strong she could be; thin and sickly as she was, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a bone-crunching hug.

"Be good, Jamie-poo," cooed his mother. "And you, my little Star."

"Mum."

"All right, all right," she said, and then let go of them. He took one last look at his parents, their arms around each other and smiling proudly at all of them, and then he turned on the spot with Lily; he saw everything warp about, the trees surrounding them stretched and lengthened, and the snow disappeared from under his feet; then he was standing on hard pavement, one hand holding on to his trunk and bags, the other gripping Lily's waist tightly.

He'd Apparated them directly to the Hogsmeade Square; not long after, his friends appeared. Squinting past the main road, shielding his eyes from the glaring winter sun, he saw Hogwarts in the distance, looking as big and as black as ever.

James shivered suddenly. Memories of his last Hogsmeade trip were coming back to him; many of the shops in the vicinity had boarded-up windows and closed doors. The Three Broomsticks, thankfully, still appeared to be operating, but he thought the pub was tilted slightly to the side as he walked past it.

The five of them trudged up the slippery drive towards the castle, dragging their trunks and owls. He was feeling rather hungry; perhaps, once he had had a nice afternoon nap, he would go down to the kitchens and have a bite.

The new term started the very next morning with a surprise for the sixth and seventh years: a large sign had been pinned to the common-room noticeboards.

Provisional Field Licenses

Those that are above the age of seventeen, or will turn seventeen before 31st August, are eligible for an eight-week Provisional Training Course in order to get a Provisional Field License. The Ministry will take into account your OWL results and your previous career choices in order to best select your appropriate course. Please sign below if you are interested.

Cost: 12 Galleons.

Below that was a list of all the different courses and the OWL results that were needed to participate. James and Sirius took one of the pamphlets and read over it curiously, skimming through. Several pictures were depicting gruff-looking wizards fending back hordes of Dark creatures, as well as pretty witches in white robes caring for wounded patients. The both of them joined the crowd that was jostling around the boards and squeezed through, taking out their quills to sign their names underneath.

"Provisional Licenses, huh?" said Lily as the Gryffindors walked down to the Great Hall. "Seems like the Ministry's getting desperate."

"What do you mean?" asked James.

"Well, we all know that the Ministry's supply of Aurors and Hit-Wizards is getting depleted," said Lily. "I hear St Mungo's is having trouble with their Healers, as well. A lot of people have been quitting… but personally, I think they're covering for disappearances."

"It's really getting serious, isn't it?" said Mary, locking elbows with Lily. "But what will getting a Provisional License do to help?"

"It allows you to go out to the field and help, for one thing," answered Lily. "Sort of like a back-up… of course, the Ministry needs to coordinate with Hogwarts first if they want the students to go out and help, but since they've started posting the notices, I reckon Dumbledore's supportive of them."

"What course are you going to take, Lily?" asked Mary.

"I've been set on becoming a Healer since fifth year," said Lily. "Should help my apprenticeship with Madam Pomfrey, as well."

"The espionage course sounds neat," piped up Peter. "Minimal fighting, barely any interaction… all you need is to be good at stealth and tracking, and listening to other people talk about their diabolical plans…"

They all laughed.

The Gryffindors were not the only ones that appeared to be excited about the upcoming courses. During Defence Against the Dark Arts, their first lesson of the day, Professor Hedith also gave her opinion on it.

"I think it's brilliant," she said, when Fortuna Greengrass of Slytherin took the opportunity to ask during one of the rare times that Hedith wasn't jinxing them. "You need to take up on every chance you've got, with the world as it is right now."

"What are they going to teach us?" asked Sirius. "If they start with basic Tickling Charms or the lot I think I'd rather spend my Galleons on Dr Filibuster's…"

There was some tittering at that, but James thought he had a point. Last year, when they were starting their Apparition Lessons, the Ministry had thought it a good idea to send over someone who couldn't distinguish the difference between a baby and a sixteen-year-old.

"If you're taking the Defence course, then I'd imagine they'd send over an Auror," said Hedith thoughtfully. "They're taking this seriously, or else Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let them advertise around… for the Healing course, I think Madam Pomfrey is more than capable of teaching. Not so sure about the rest…"

But then she shook her head and stared around the classroom, her face growing sterner and sterner by the second. "That's enough talk, I think. Now form a line behind the desk, you should all have a firm grasp on casting Sanctum Flammae…"

The subject of Provisional Licenses was still all the students could talk about when that day's classes had ended. James had dashed up to the Head's Tower as the others made their way to the Gryffindor common room, having scheduled Quidditch practice until dinner.

He and Marlene made their way to the pitch, discussing strategies for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff, though that wasn't until March. Marlene still appeared quite miffed that he'd scheduled practice on the very first day of class, but he stood firmly by his decision; Hufflepuff had appointed a brand new Seeker, as Bertram Aubrey had gotten himself banned for the rest of the season.

They were up in the air with the rest of the team as soon as they were ready. James thought the team looked rather rusty, but he conceded that that was because they'd just gotten out of break. Marlene flew as well as she always did, and when James let out the Snitch she caught it in record time, having flown about two-thirds of the pitch in just a matter of seconds.

"Brilliant," said James weakly, scratching the back of his neck. "Um… yeah, just let it out a couple more times…"

It was well after five o'clock when they finally finished. James and Marlene took on the duty of cleaning up, and when she finally announced that she was deathly hungry, they both staggered back up to the castle, where the smell of dinner seemed to tantalize him even further.